


When the Clock Strikes

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Abuse, Cinderella Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: Three retellings of the classic Cinderella story, each with their own twist.Part One: Cinders. In which a kind girl seeks escape.Part Two: Glass. In which a half-breed wishes for freedom.Part Three: Midnight. In which the prince is absolutely perfect... right?





	1. Cinders

**Trivia:** In the original Grimm Brother's Cinderella, the ball lasts three nights, not one. That's the timeline I'll be working with throughout since I don't believe people fall in love at first sight either.

“Cinderella never asked for a prince. She asked for a night off and a dress.” —Kiera Cass

**X:Cinders:X**

Blood mixing with her tears, Kagome collapsed against the dry well. Pain speared through the wound above her temple. The injury pulsed, throbbed, in time with her heartbeat. Wincing, she fingered the strands of her hair that had been sliced along with her flesh. As she combed around the wound, more and more inky locks came loose. Apparently, she had been luckier than she had even realized since so much of her hair had been severed.

Lifting herself from her knees, Kagome put her back to the crumbling edge of the dry well, sat down, and leaned back. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and tipped her head back. The motion made her vision swim and changed the roll of blood down her neck. She shivered as the crimson liquid traced a new path and seeped into her shirt. All around her, the night was cool and vast. She was lucky to be alive, she supposed, though it felt less and less like that each time she fled to the dry well.

Maybe she should just hurl herself into the well and have her bones disappear just like her father's. Then, she wouldn't have to go back to her step-mother—nay, step-demon's—clutches. Wiping away a drop of blood that slid to the underside of her chin, she forced those thoughts away. No, her father who had always been kind, always wanted to see the good and bright side of everything, would not have wanted that for her.

Yet, Kagome thought, it was that very kindness that found her in such a terrible state. Her father, rest his soul, had wanted to bridge the gap between demons and humans. He had truly believed that there were good demon's out there. That's why he remarried to the woman—the demon—who had inflicted such damage to the side of Kagome's face and head. Of course, Jorogumo(1) had been fantastic and nurturing while Kagome's father still lived. In fact, Kagome had come to love her.

Losing first her beloved father and then Jorogumo was too much to bear. 

A cool draft blew from within the well, as though it would open to another world and swallow her up. Shivering, Kagome fished into the pocket of her skirt and retrieved a stained handkerchief. It had once been her father's, but no matter how many times she washed it, she could not return it to its original color. It was forever stained with her blood. Pressing it to the wound on her head, she hissed in pain.

Her vision swam, lights dancing before her eyes, as she tried to stave off the bleeding. Tipping her head back against a swell of pain-induced nausea, she found her gaze wandering to the castle on the mountaintop. The many curves and spires made it look more like a fortress than a castle containing a royal family yet that's exactly what it was. The Inu Clan, rulers and protectors of this land, lived there. Each of its windows glowed with warm amber firelight. 

The draft from inside the dry well whispered along the back of Kagome's neck and she shivered. What she wouldn't give to be wrapped in the warmth of a fire right now. Gingerly, she removed the handkerchief from the side of her head. The wound pounded, pulsed, but no longer bled freely.

All around her, the crisp night pressed in.

Shakily, Kagome got to her feet. Her long skirt was torn almost to her hip, baring the length of her leg, but her shirt was unmarred save for the blood. Pinching the top of the long rip closed against the night air, Kagome walked unsteadily away from the dry well. It usually took less than two minutes to walk from the Bone Eater's Well to the river, but in her condition it took nearly ten. Every few steps, her vision danced and she had to lean against a tree for support. 

When she finally reached the river, she knelt gratefully and plunged her soaked handkerchief into the cool water. If not for the fast current, the water would have turned pink. As it was, the river rushed heedlessly away. Kagome wrung out the handkerchief and wiped the dried blood from her neck. Rinsing it again, she wiped her face and the shell of her ear. There was no reflection to study her wound in so she cleaned herself up as best she could. 

Satisfied, she wrung out the handkerchief, folded it, and put it back in her pocket. The cold water had done a little to diminish the pain and refresh her. Cupping her hands, she drank deeply of the fast-flowing stream. When she lifted her head, she found her gaze drawn to the castle on the mountaintop again. Its lights glowed so warmly, gold like a treasure. She wondered about the hearths in that castle, the fires stacked with wood. What she wouldn't give—

Kagome gingerly slapped her cheeks to stop her daydreaming. 

Gripping the tear in her skirt closed again, Kagome turned her back on the stream. Her vision was significantly clearer and her steps were steadier. She carefully made her way back home. There, the many windows of the once-beautiful manor were dark and cold like mirrors. Kagome peeked in the parlor, but couldn't see anything beyond a curtain of cobwebs that had not been there when she fled. 

Jorogumo had been busy.

Cautiously, Kagome circled the house and peered inside every first-floor window. She saw no sign of Jorogumo and the fire that had been burning low was now dark. Ashes spilled from the hearth. Jorogumo must have added more wood and then gone to sleep. Kagome wasn't sure how long she had been at the well anyway. 

Kagome crept around the manor until she reached the basement. The doors were wooden and needed to be replaced over a year ago. They splintered and creaked under her hands. Kagome eased only half of the double bilco door back against the house. Carefully, she stepped down the earthen steps and lowered the breaking door back over herself. 

The basement was hell-dark, only slivers of moonlight seeping between the cracks of the door, but Kagome knew it like the back of her hand. She had been living in the basement since her father passed. She stepped over the rut in the earth where water drained through, side-stepped the beams that supported the house, and sank down on the nest of blankets that she called her bed. She had a single candle, but it was becoming low. She didn't want to waste it.

In the pitch-dark, she stripped out of her skirt and shirt. Come morning, when Jorogumo left for the town, Kagome would repair her clothes. Folding her clothes aside, Kagome burrowed into the musty and threadbare blankets. She had gathered them over the years as Jorogumo discarded them for better. Resting her head on the lumpy pillow, she closed her eyes. 

The wound on her head throbbed with heat. It was the only part of her body that felt warm. 

Even with the cold and pain, Kagome fell asleep quickly. Mental and physical exhaustion dragged her down deep into the abyss.

…

There was no morning light to wake her yet Kagome stirred early. It felt as though she had only been asleep for mere minutes. Her head pounded throughout and her mouth tasted the way the basement smelled. She pushed back the covers and neatly tucked them back into place. If Jorogumo were to come into the basement, she would see only what appeared to be a stack of folded blankets. She wouldn't notice right away that this was Kagome's room. Kagome wasn't sure Jorogumo would even care, but she didn't want to risk it.

Searching the dark for the small box of matches, Kagome struck the flame and lit her tiny candle. She would have to find something small to trade in town for another candle if she wanted to have any light. There was a time when she managed to keep many candles to read by, but she had traded all but her father's most favorite book for food, clothing, and light over the years. She would sooner sit in the dark than give up his final treasure.

Kagome examined the remains of her torn skirt in the flickering light. It had felt worse than it was. Though long, it hadn't damaged the fabric badly. Luckily, Jorogumo's talons were deadly-sharp. Kagome looked at her leg now that she had a chance. Though the pain was nothing compared to the throbbing in her head, she discovered there was a long thin scrape spanning her leg from hip to knee. It wasn't deep and had already scabbed over. It might not even scar. 

From behind a loose brick, Kagome removed a needle and thread. The thread did not match her skirt, but she sewed the rip regardless. Satisfied with her tiny stitch work, Kagome pulled the skirt over her hips. The boots had once been her father's and they fit her badly, but it was better than going barefoot. So dressed, Kagome brushed her hair with her fingers and headed upstairs.

The sun had not yet risen as she pushed open half the bilco doors. The early morning was tinted blue-grey and only the bravest of songbirds were beginning to chirp. Kagome circled the house and let herself in through the kitchen door. She set briskly to making Jorogumo's breakfast, sparing only a crust of bread for her grumbling stomach.

Once she arranged the freshly-sliced fruit, warm bread with salmon and lox, and a mug of steaming tea on a silver tray, Kagome carried it carefully upstairs. She knocked politely on Jorogumo's door, but opened it without waiting for an answer. Spiderwebs swept at her feet as she crossed the dimly-lit space. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out the sun's warm rays. Kagome put down the tray before opening them.

Cool morning light fell across Jorogumo's bed. The four-poster bed that Kagome's father had purchased from the West had once been draped with silk and lace. Now, Jorogumo preferred to cover it with finely-spun webs of her own silky threads. Kagome struggled to say which was more beautiful, but the fabric had certainly been easier to part. Delicately, Kagome sought the dense closure of spider silk and opened the web.

Jorogumo's eyes opened to the first touch on her web and she stared at Kagome with glittery dark jewels, watching closely. If Kagome damaged the web, it would take an instant for Jorogumo to strike her. 

Luckily, Kagome managed without breaking a single strand and stepped back. She kept her face down-turned and hoped she looked supplicant. “Good morning, my lady.”

A shape-shifting demon by nature, Jorogumo changed as she rose from bed. Kagome had no idea what she truly looked like, but she always got the impression that Jorogumo looked the most like a demon while she slept. As she rose from the bed, her many long spider legs shifted and changed. Though Jorogumo never stood on human legs, she did decrease the number of her legs. Her naked milk-white skin rippled over musculature that soon melted as smoothly as silk. Jorogumo's tumbling black tresses shortened to a bob of flame-red. Her eyes were the only thing that she chose never to alter. Ink-black and piercing, Jorogumo watched her always.

“Good morning,” Jorogumo said. Today, her voice carried a slight accent that Kagome had never heard.

Realizing almost too late that she was meant to pay a compliment to Jorogumo, Kagome said swiftly, “I adore your voice. You're so talented, my lady.”

Jorogumo fingered a red curl, stretching it out, and as she did, it became golden and long to her waist. “Golden today?”

“You are a jewel,” Kagome said delicately. “No gold could ever compare.” As a child, when her father was alive, Kagome had once loved helping Jorogumo decide what to look like for that day. Now, it was a dangerous game of Russian roulette. One wrong word could send Jorogumo into a rage.

Jorogumo's dark eyes assessed her. “What then?” She sounded only slightly irritated.

“Black,” Kagome said, “you will be as mysterious as the night.”

“You would have me look like you?” Jorogumo said. Her accented voice stopped abruptly.

“No!” Kagome gasped. “Never! I am... hideous. I am a monster to behold. A human could never compare to a demon.” The self-deprecating words spilled from her like wildfire. Though Kagome didn't necessarily believe these things, she was willing to say anything to please Jorogumo and protect herself. 

“True,” Jorogumo said. She tapped a finger to her lips. With each tap, the color of her nails and lips changed—tap, pink, tap, violet, tap, green, tap, rose-red. “I suppose my own opinion is worth more than yours.” She settled on a deep black that made her teeth appear as white as bleached bones.

“I brought your breakfast,” Kagome ventured.

“Ah, yes,” Jorogumo remarked. She speared a piece of fruit with a long sharp nail and popped it into her mouth. Her teeth looked sharp as she chewed. “Delicious. You didn't choose anything unripe this time.”

Kagome let out a tiny breath of relief.

Jorogumo's many legs clicked on the hardwood floors as she rose. “Dress me.”

“What would you prefer, my lady?” Kagome asked. It wasn't often that Jorogumo chose to wear real clothing rather than a fabricated illusion.

“The lilac gown,” Jorogumo instructed. 

Kagome opened the armoir and removed a stunning gown of pale lilac. Pearls beaded the bodice and waist in elaborate swirls, inter-cut with tiny dark violet points. Though floor-length, it had a long slit up the side to allow Jorogumo the space she needed for her many legs. Kagome slid the dress over Jorogumo's head and laced the bodice tightly. Jorogumo fit the corset with ease and then arranged the skirt over her legs.

Jorogumo strode to the large round mirror and admired herself. She lifted her hair away from her neck. Without trouble, she arranged her long tresses into an elaborate style piled behind her head. Tiny wisps framed her face and swept against her throat. She changed the color to a pale pearl, almost white. Like this, her black eyes and lips stood out. She looked like a beautiful doll or a princess from a fairy tale, if not for the many spider's legs spilling from beneath the skirts. 

“What?” Jorogumo remarked.

Kagome's heart stopped. Had she spoken aloud?

“The doorbell!” 

Kagome bowed hastily out of the room, descended the stairs, and answered the door.

A messenger of the Inu Clan stood on the other side. Wearing a suit of rich violet velvet and carrying a gold staff, the dark-haired man asked, “Is the lady of the manor present?”

Kagome choked, but nodded. She turned to call for Jorogumo, but the beautiful woman had already descended the stairs on silent legs. 

Jorogumo smiled at the messenger, showing the tips of her pointed teeth, and tapped a finger to her lips. “What can a lady like myself do for you?” Jorogumo asked.

The messenger cleared his throat, unfurled a scroll, and read in a commanding voice, “This is an invitation from the Inu Clan. In three days hence, all the eligible ladies in the land are asked to attend a party at the castle.”

“A party?” Jorogumo said delightedly. 

The messenger continued to read as though she hadn't spoken, “Lord Inu no Taisho's youngest son must choose a bride from the eligible ladies who attend. The ball will last for three nights. On the third night, the woman who will marry the youngest Lord will be revealed.” The messenger re-rolled his scroll. “Have you any questions?”

Jorogumo giggled. “What shall I wear?”

“That is entirely up to you,” the messenger said shortly. 

Jorogumo bid the messenger farewell and turned away, speaking under her breath with excitement.

Kagome stood at the threshold and watched the messenger go. Marriage to Lord Inu no Taisho's youngest son, she thought. If she lived in that castle, she would be warm and fed. If the stories of Lord Inu no Taisho were true, no one would ever harm her again. The lord was rumored to be kind to humans, even going to far as to have his second marriage to a human lady. 

Sharply, as though to remind her of her place, Jorogumo called, “I expect this house to shine by the time I return. I simply must shop for something to wear to the ball. Three days is hardly any time at all to prepare for something so extraordinary.”

Kagome swallowed, wondering why her throat was so tight. It would be years before she was able to escape this life, if she ever was. This land was governed by demons. She would only be able to survive in a human town, but—being reared by a demon such as Jorogumo—would damage that. Humans feared demons and demons despised humans. She had no place to flee to. 

As she closed the door, Kagome lifted her eyes to the castle on the mountaintop one final time. In the sunlight, the windows glower.

XXX

Three days passed in a blur. Kagome had done everything she could to stay on Jorogumo's good side. Luckily, her excitement made her a little more forgiving than usual. Unfortunately, the excitement made her spin twice as many webs. Kagome's fingers were worn to the bone from constantly scrubbing, sweeping, and cleaning. Even now, Jorogumo spun a web between her two front-most legs as she worried her hair with her hands. 

“Silver? Or gold?” she asked, changing the color of the locks with a touch. Dressed in a fine gown the same near-translucent silver as a spiderweb in sunlight, speckled with jewels that flickered rainbows like dewdrops, Kagome didn't think there was a more beautiful creature in the land. Jorogumo's dark eyes assessed the pink of her lips, the silver of her nails, the flush of her cheeks. She tugged her hair from gold to silver to black to red and every color in between. “Oh! I can't decide!”

Kagome wet her lips. 

Jorogumo turned to face her and fixed her in place with her dark deep eyes. “Choose for me.”

Kagome swallowed.

“If you choose wrong and the young lord doesn't notice me...” Jorogumo let the threat hang in the air.

Kagome's heart skipped several beats and she sucked in a tiny breath before answering. “Golden,” she said. “You'll look like a treasure.”

Jorogumo twisted her fingers through her hair and tugged them free. She left behind a rich golden color and smooth perfect curls. Honestly, she was the most beautiful thing Kagome had ever seen. She didn't know how the young lord wouldn't notice and fall for her.

“I feel like a treasure,” Jorogumo said. 

Kagome held her skirt as they descended the stairs together. Night was falling beyond the windows, painting the sky an array of amazing colors. Outside the manor, a carriage awaited Jorogumo. Tiny lanterns glowed at its four corners and the arched roof rose into a steeple decorated with a spider. Jorogumo stepped inside, drew in her many legs and long skirt, and closed the door. The carriage lifted from the ground immediately and whisked away into the night sky.

Kagome followed the tiny lights for as long as she could. Soon, it had vanished and all she could see was the brightly-lit castle on the mountaintop. 

Letting her breath out slowly, Kagome exited the manor and walked around to the basement doors. She made her way through the dark easily, retrieved her father's book, and returned to the manor. She lit a single candle at the kitchen table, took an apple from the bowl, and sank down in a chair. By the flickering light, she opened the book to its first page. There, her father had written, 'To my beloved Kagome. I hope you enjoy.' She traced her sore fingers over the words and fought the tears. 

Biting into the apple, Kagome stared at the words through the tears until her vision blurred completely. Even after she could see nothing more than shapes and shadows, she didn't wipe her eyes. She wept openly and occasionally took a bite of her apple between sobs. When she had exhausted herself crying, she finally took the handkerchief from her pocket and dried her face. She blinked to clear her vision.

The woman seated across the table from Kagome startled her so badly that she cried out.

“Sorry,” the woman said. “I didn't intend to frighten you.”

“You—how did you get in here?” Kagome demanded. 

“I've always been here.”

“Always?”

“That might not be exactly true,” the woman said pensively, “but I wish I had been.”

“Who are you?” Kagome asked, too confused to be frightened. 

“Not a demon, not a human, something on the edge of the in between,” the woman said. “Tonight, you may call me Sango.”

Kagome did not test the name. She stared at the woman.

Sango really was quite lovely. She had sharp dark eyes lined with crimson, a full mouth, and pointed chin. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a high ponytail though bangs softened her face and austere appearance. She wore black and that was all Kagome could tell. The longer she looked at her, the fewer features Kagome could pick out. Compared to Jorogumo, she was not a beauty, but there was something ephemeral and lovely about her. 

“Why are you here?” Kagome asked. 

“To give you a chance.”

“A chance?” 

Sango laid her hand on the table and opened her palm. Kagome had the impression of a round orb, but it was gone before she could look closer. Wind rushed into her face, blinding her and stealing her breath. “Tell me,” Sango said, “what would you like to wear to Lord Ino no Taisho's castle?”

“Inu no Taisho?” Kagome repeated.

“You have a good heart,” Sango said, “it's unfortunate that you are a little slow.”

Ire prickled along Kagome's lips, but the rushing wind stole her intended sharp words away. 

“You're quite lovely,” Sango remarked. “If you cannot decide, I will choose for you tonight. You can decide for yourself tomorrow. After all, time is of the essence.”

“What are you talking about?” Kagome gasped.

“Something green, I imagine,” Sango said. “Once I am finished, hurry to the castle. It will only last until midnight.”

For one breath-stealing moment, the wind rushed at Kagome even harder. Then, as suddenly as it began, it vanished. Kagome opened her eyes, but the chair where the woman had been seated was empty. Her father's book still lay before her, open to the very first page, and her half-eaten apple was undisturbed. She must have been more tired and hungry than she thought. She had imagined the entire—

Was that a glove?

Kagome bolted to her feet and stumbled immediately in the impractical shoes. She looked down at herself, able only to see what lay beneath her collarbones. The swell of her breasts and beaded neckline was shocking enough to see. What on earth was she wearing?

Kagome hurried to the kitchen window and looked at her reflection on the glass. The dress was no less stunning than Jorogumo's had been. Emerald in color and decorated with tiny jewels, the dress flared at her knees and fell to her ankles. If not for the shoes raising her a few inches, she would have stepped on the hem. Translucent silk hugged her arms and chest, preserving her modesty, but her hair had been swept back to show her face. The healing wound at her temple had disappeared, along with the pain.

Beyond the glass, there was an abrupt flare of fire.

Kagome rushed out the back door and stopped in her tracks at the sight of a two-tailed demon cat glowing like a beacon in the night. The cat watched her with clever eyes though her fangs were frightening. Flames licked from her paws to the tips of her tails, but she looked gentle and did not advance. 

Kagome stood there, frozen, staring, at the demon.

“What are you waiting for?” Sango's voice came suddenly. “Kirara will take you to the castle.”

Kagome whirled around to face the woman. “I can't go!” she protested sharply.

Sango raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Jorogumo will recognize me! If she finds out I left the manor, she'll—”

“She won't recognize you,” Sango assured her. 

“Why not?”

“She just won't,” Sango repeated. “Now, hurry up and go.” 

Kirara let out a plaintive roar that was as cute as a cat's meow. 

When Kagome looked back for Sango, she was gone again. 

Kirara didn't wait any longer for the girl. She charged forward, swept beneath Kagome's legs, and leaped into the sky. A scream tore from Kagome's lips before she could stop it and the cool night rushed by. Kirara landed in front of the castle among all the horse-, demon-, or magic-drawn carriages. An unperturbed footman held out his hand for Kagome and waited patiently as she unclenched her shaking hands from Kirara's golden fur.

“Your name, my lady?” the footman inquired. He had a sharp reptilian face complete with narrow eyes and a thin mouth. His forked tongue flashed when he spoke, scenting that she was human.

Kagome's breath stuttered in her chest. “Um, I'm K-Kagome.”

He was kind enough not to repeat the stutter as he assisted her up the steep mountain steps. Another pair of demon servants opened the double doors of the castle. Immediately, golden warmth and the smell of delicious foods washed over Kagome. She breathed in deeply and smiled wide.

“The young lord will see each lady in order of arrival,” the serpentine footman instructed. “Introduce yourself properly then.”

Kagome nodded without hearing him. Gazing at the sights around her, she barely noticed as the line crept forward inch by inch. All around her, beautiful women giggled and swooned, chatted and danced, ate and drank. Kagome's empty stomach grumbled. She had never been to a party like this before.

Though there was a throne at the room's center, a massive fireplace took up much of the wall behind it. Kagome thought eagerly of standing before it, soaking up the heat. In her beautiful yet thin gown, she shivered. 

Then, all at once, the ladies in front of her finished curtsying and stepped aside. 

Kagome's eyes fell on Inu no Taisho first. He was a magnificent man—demon, whatever. His visage was human save for his pointed ears, the twin violet stripes on his cheekbones, and the hint of sharp fangs at his mouth. His skin was a stunning shade of bronze, tanned and smooth and unmarred by so much as a freckle. His eyes fell on her as amber and warm and burning as any fire. His silvery hair was pulled into a ponytail but must have hung to his hips. He wore elaborate armor and carried two swords at his waist.

In his presence, Kagome could not help but curtsy. “M-My Lord,” she whispered.

A little sound—maybe a laugh, maybe a sound of derision though Kagome doubted it by his gentle face—escaped his lips. “Who might you be?”

“Kagome, My Lord,” she said.

“This is my youngest son, Inuyasha.”

It was difficult to remove her eyes from Inu no Taisho, but Kagome didn't mind looking away once she saw his son. Inuyasha had many of the same features as his father. His skin was golden from the sun, his eyes glowed like firelight, and his long silvery hair flowed to his waist. Yet what captivated Kagome the most were two small triangular ears perched atop his head. They swiveled and twitched, listening to the smallest of sounds. They looked ten times more interested in the ball than Inuyasha did.

Kagome curtsied again, nearly wavering.

Inuyasha accepted her hand, pressed his lips briefly to the back of it, and said, “Charmed.”

Then, the line pressed forward. 

That was it. Kagome's entire exchange with the prince within a few seconds. She hastened out of the way and stood for a moment, watching as several ladies handled the exchange much more gracefully though none made Inuyasha seem more than vaguely interested. He looked like a robot going through the motions.

Probably this was just a charade and he already had an arranged marriage, but it was still amazing to be in the palace and see Inu no Taisho in the flesh. It wasn't as if Kagome ever believed she had a chance with the young lord. There were probably princesses here along with other human nobles and demons like Jorogumo. Heck, demon princesses had probably attended in droves. Even so, Kagome was happy to be here and escape her life even if only for a few hours.

She wove through the finely-dressed women until she was in front of the fireplace and stretched out her hands gratefully. For the first time in years, the chill was chased from her skin.

A pair of young women tucked themselves onto the balcony, but did not close the doors. They began to gossip in low voices.

“You can't tell by looking at him that he's just a half-breed,” the first woman said. Her tongue changed from red to blue and back as she spoke.

The second woman's hair was done elaborately around the horns crowning her head. “If he wasn't part of the Inu Line, I wouldn't have bothered to come out tonight.”

“Humans blood,” the first spat, “you can smell it on him.” She removed a vial of perfume from her sleeve and sprayed it vigorously. 

“I'm surprised Lord Inu no Taisho invited so many humans,” the second remarked. “One would think he would be in the market to scrub the human from his line.”

“Inu no Taisho likes humans, though I will never understand why.”

“The young lord seems bored with his own wedding. Maybe Lord Inu no Taisho will be the one to choose his bride?”

The first woman put away her perfume. “I hope so. I made quite the impression on Inu no Taisho.” Her breasts swelled enormously beneath her corset. “This body will bear him many strong sons.”

“You whore,” the second woman said.

Abruptly, they realized Kagome was listening to them and sneered, baring fangs and claws. Kagome looked sharply down, tucked her arms close to her sides, and put some space between them. When she looked up again, the two ladies had rejoined the party.

Half-breed, she thought, half-demon and half-human. 

Venturing away from the warm fire, Kagome passed along the buffet table. She felt foolish, eating at a time like this. Maybe she should throw herself at the young lord and beg Inu no Taisho to choose her for his son's bride, but she didn't. Instead, she loaded a plate with fine delicacies, chose a goblet of juice, and made her way outside to dine. The garden was deserted, though it was lit with lanterns and had bubbling fountains. Kagome supposed the night was a bit crisp but she was used to the chill. She chose a bench and ate slowly, savoring each flavor.

A glow began to swell over the stone fence.

Kirara appeared, treading the air. She roared softly, which Kagome took to mean it was time to return. She left her plate and goblet behind, climbed carefully onto Kirara's back, and held on for dear life. The night flew past her and it was all too soon that Kirara landed outside the basement doors.

Kagome climbed down and looked up at the moon. It was completely overhead—midnight. The magic did not fade all at once. Her gown melted away, leaving behind her torn skirt and dirty shirt. Her hair came down next, falling around her face untamed and sheared where Jorogumo had struck her previously. Finally, her lovely heels were once again replaced with her father's ill-fitting boots. She was no longer beautiful. She was just Kagome.

In a blaze of fire, Kirara shrank to an adorable size, mewled once, and turned away. She disappeared into the dark forest without looking back.

Kagome waited a moment, but Sango did not return. 

With her belly full, her heart light, and her feet swiftly growing cold in the night, Kagome opened the door to the basement and stepped down into the dark. She took off her clunky boots, burrowed into her nest of blankets, and slept peacefully through the whole night. 

XXX

When Kagome rose at her usual time the next morning, Jorogumo sat at the table. Kagome immediately remembered her father's book—his last treasure—and her heart leaped into her throat. Jorogumo trailed her fingers through a mess of shredded paper and ash. Her nails were impossibly long and poison green.

“He did not notice me.”

Kagome couldn't say she was surprised after seeing all the exquisite ladies at the ball, but Jorogumo apparently was. Her eyes were black with rage and her mouth was the same venom-green as her nails. Her many long legs spread around her from beneath the remains of her silver gown. She rose to her full height and towered over Kagome like death incarnate.

In a movement too fast to avoid, Jorogumo's front leg smashed into Kagome's chest. The breath rushed from her lungs and she crashed backwards into the kitchen cabinets. Her head struck the counter and sparks blinded her. Gasping, Kagome fell to her side and curled in on herself to protect her stomach. 

Spiders silk snared her wrists and dragged her forward. Jorogumo's legs whirled and danced as she spun Kagome into a web. Spreadeagled, unable to protect herself from any of the following blows, Kagome gave Jorogumo the satisfaction of screaming.

“I'm sorry,” she cried. “I'm sorry!”

“I was the most beautiful woman at that ball and he didn't even notice me. It must have been your fault,” Jorogumo snarled. “A human's opinion on my looks ruined my first impression on the young lord.” She raked her sharp nails over Kagome's waist and stomach, rending the soft skin carelessly.

Kagome whimpered. 

Jorogumo licked her fingers and then spat on the floor. “Foul,” she hissed. 

When she struck Kagome in the stomach, black threatened the edges of her vision. She couldn't draw in a deep enough breath. Her injured temple began to throb and pulse. The scratches on her belly wept blood freely, staining her torn and patched skirt. Jorogumo fisted a hand in Kagome's hair and tipped it backwards to bare her throat. 

“You'll do better tonight,” she snarled, “be certain of it.” With one final blow that stole Kagome's consciousness, Jorogumo walked away. The sounds of her many legs was like a whisper, a voice calling out over and over. From the corner of her eye, Kagome saw tattered paper fluttering. It felt like her soul.

…

Kagome roused with a splash of frigid water. She sputtered for a moment, flailing helplessly with her arms and legs spread wide. She sucked in water rather than air, coughed, and then cried out as Jorogumo sharply cut the webs holding her up. She fell with a crash, jarring the wounds on her stomach and further rattling her skull. Dizzy, she remained on her hands and knees for a moment.

“Bowing suits you,” Jorogumo remarked.

Kagome did not rise and remained bowed down, her long tangled hair touching the web-covered floor.

“Rise,” Jorogumo said finally. “Help me decide.”

Kagome lifted her head slowly and took in the sight of Jorogumo. Naked, her many legs disguising her sex, her skin was so white that her breasts gleamed. She touched her nipples, darkening them. Then, with a wave of her hand, she crafted a stunning gown out of nothing. It was so deep in color that it took Kagome to notice it was the shade of fresh blood. Decorated with black jewels, it drew out Jorogumo's dark eyes.

Jorogumo tugged her hair from silver-white to black to violet. “What do you think?”

“You are a jewel,” Kagome murmured.

The blow landed hard on the side of her head, breaking the wound open again.

Kagome yelped. 

“When I want an empty compliment, I shall ask. Now, the young lord must notice me tonight. What color shall my hair be?”

Kagome wasn't sure what the answer should be. “Gold,” she said.

Thoughtfully, Jorogumo carded her fingers through her hair. She looked at her reflection in the window and must not have liked what she saw. So blindingly fast that Kagome didn't have a chance to brace herself, Jorogumo kicked her. The blows of her many legs were rapidly fired. Kagome didn't get a chance to breathe or scream. When Jorogumo stopped, Kagome collapsed, sobbing.

“No.”

Whimpering, Kagome forced herself onto her knees and looked up at Jorogumo. “Chocolate,” she murmured, “not too dark.”

Jorogumo tangled her hair, melting the color into the pale tresses. She artfully arranged curls around her narrow beautiful face, pinned up some strands while not others. When she finished, she was even more beautiful than the previous night. She was a ruby, glowing and gleaming.

Jorogumo looked down at Kagome disdainfully. She bent and traced a deadly-sharp nail over Kagome's cheek, drawing fresh blood. “You look even better in red than I do.” Pleased, Jorogumo stepped past Kagome and disappeared outside. With a soft sound, her flying carriage departed for the castle on the mountaintop.

Kagome crumbled in on herself, clutching her agonized belly and sobbing in pain. Blood seeped slowly onto her hands from the aggravated scratches. The wound on her head wept sluggishly, trickling warmly down her face along with the tears. Her cheek stung, too shallow to get much attention while her body throbbed. Unconsciousness beckoned and she was tempted to answer its call. She hurt so much. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for years until the pain ceased.

“Kagome, Kagome,” a whisper beckoned.

“Dad?” she breathed.

“Far from.” 

Kagome's vision came back into focus slowly. She identified Sango's crimson-lined eyes and black clothing slowly. “You're back?” she murmured.

“The ball lasts for three days,” Sango said. 

Kagome struggled to sit up, her clothes sticking to the wounds on her stomach. The fabric was stained dark red now.

“You look good in red,” Sango remarked.

Kagome's head snapped up sharply, horror building like bile in her throat. Sango had to be some kind of demon. Was this all a trick, a trap?

However, Sango knelt before her and gingerly touched her cheek. “The spider is not to be trifled with, is she?” she murmured kindly.

Kagome breathed out slowly, wincing as Sango touched the slice on her cheek. 

“Well, the magic will take your pain,” Sango said. “Stand up. Time is short.”

Kagome rose on shaking legs and steadied herself as the wind rushed in and peeled away her ragged garments. Tonight, a stunning gown of red and white formed in place of her torn clothes. Strapless, rich ruby silk dominated her upper body, framed her breasts, and pressed some cleavage into being. At her knees the ruby parted to reveal pure white. An elaborate swirl of jewels hung over the split, shaped like flowers that only bloomed on a distant world. 

“Lovely,” Sango remarked. “Kirara will take you.”

Kagome's eyes fell on her father's destroyed book and misted with tears.

Sango tutted. “Come, you'll ruin your beautiful eyes.” She picked up the burned book and, as she did, it reshaped itself. Whole and perfect, she handed the book to Kagome. “Better?”

Kagome wanted to sob with gratitude. 

However, Sango gave her no time. She clapped her hands. “Go.”

Lifting her skirt with one hand, clutching the book in the other, Kagome hastened outside where Kirara was waiting. The giant demon cat purred in greeting and inclined her head. Tonight, Kagome didn't let Kirara sweep her off her feet. Holding her skirt obscenely high, she mounted the cat's back and held on with her thighs and free hand. 

Kirara surged into the night sky, stars whipping past them. Sitting astride the cat, Kagome took advantage and looked around. Beneath her, she could see the silver ribbon of river winding through the black woods. The Inu Castle rose like the spires of a fantastic cake, all aglow with candles. She could see the garden where she had eaten the night before. It was even more beautiful from above, laid out in the shape of a heart.

Kirara landed at the front doors again. The same reptilian footman offered his hand and asked her name.

“Kagome,” she said.

He appeared to remember her, but his smile was so thin-lipped that it was hard to tell.

Kagome sighed in pleasure as the warmth of the castle enveloped her. She took notice of the music, playing an upbeat tune that encouraged dancing unlike the slow waltzes and funereal songs from the night before. She joined the lineup of ladies trying to make an impression on the young lord without meaning to. She could see the band from where she stood and swayed to the music, delighted. 

Before she knew it, she was in front of Inu no Taisho and his son again.

“Good evening,” Inu no Taisho greeted. “Kagome, was it?”

Kagome's shock must have shown on her face. 

Inu no Taisho laughed softly. “It wouldn't do if I forgot everyone.”

Kagome blushed. Really, why had she felt so special that he had remembered her name? She curtsied before him, awkwardly holding her father's book with one hand.

Inu no Taisho's eyes lit upon the tome. “Do you find the ball so boring, young lady?”

Kagome flinched, horrified that he would strike her. She couldn't feel the pain from her other injuries, but she knew they were there. She didn't want more to add to her increasing collection. 

Inu no Taisho angled his head to read the title. “The Well at the World's End?” he inquired.

One of Inuyasha's ears showed interest though his amber gaze remained bored. 

“It-it was my father's,” Kagome whispered.

Inu no Taisho inclined his head with understanding, but did not offer condolences. The life of a human must have been mere moments to him. Glancing at Inuyasha, Kagome suddenly wondered how old he was and how long he would live. He looked in his twenties, but looks were deceiving. Jorogumo had lived for many centuries. Kagome was only fifteen though she felt much older.

Inuyasha held out his hand, clearly bored with this conversation. His adorable ears had turned back to the upbeat music. 

Kagome curtsied to him, put her hand into his, and accepted a brief kiss to the back of it. Then, she moved away. As she had the night before, she made herself a plate of delicacies and went into the garden. She found a lantern to sit beneath and opened her father's book to her favorite chapter. She read for a long time, listening to the music and snacking. When Kirara came for her, she was even sadder than she had been the night before. To think she was only going to have one more night like this.

“Can't we stay longer?” Kagome asked the demon cat.

Kirara shook her head and turned her back towards Kagome. 

With a sigh, Kagome closed her father's book, climbed onto the cat's back, and they flew. Kirara flew much more slowly than before though. Kagome stared at the night all around her. She felt very small and alone, but also very peaceful. Her stomach was full and Sango had resurrected her father's book from the ashes. She knew pain only awaited her at the manor, but that was nothing new. She was grateful for the respite, however small it might be.

XXX

Jorogumo didn't wait for Kagome to get up the next morning. She hurled open the basement doors with a crash, spun her web into the space, and dragged Kagome out. Her legs, bare beneath her torn bloodied skirt, scraped hideously up the rocky stairs and splinters lashed her face. Kagome couldn't shield herself with her hands bound in webs. Bleeding without Jorogumo ever raising a hand, Kagome fought a scream. The spider would only grow angrier, she was sure. Jorogumo liked sounds of pain when, and only when, she caused them.

“He did not notice me again,” Jorogumo snarled. Her mouth was filled with rows of sharp teeth.

Kagome had never seen Jorogumo look so much like a demon. 

“Worthless girl,” Jorogumo hissed. “Why do I bother keeping you alive?”

Kagome did not know, but she wondered. Why hadn't Jorogumo just killed her? Why did the spider ask for her opinion when she dressed herself for the ball?

“Humans are worthless. Maybe I don't even want that half-breed scum,” Jorogumo muttered. “So what if he's a lord? Human blood defiles him.”

Kagome tried not to draw attention to herself. As long as Jorogumo was talking, she wouldn't attack.

However, Jorogumo fisted a hand in Kagome's dark hair and dragged her to her feet. “I thought the human in you would appeal to him. I thought your choice would make him take notice, but no... you're worth nothing. You're lower than a dog.” Repulsed, she flung Kagome away like a rag doll.

Kagome's back cracked hard against the manor and the window beside her splintered. She fell to her knees, jarred by the impact. Her scraped legs continued to bleed and the wounds on her belly opened again. She gasped for breath desperately, dizzy with agony. 

With a wave of her long leg, Jorogumo strung Kagome up like prey. “Maybe something will come along and take you off my hands,” she said. “A nice crow might peck your eyes out.”

Kagome's heart pounded hard. 

Jorogumo sauntered back into the manor and everything was quiet. Maybe she had gone to sleep or maybe she was testing styles on herself for the final night of the ball. 

Kagome tested the sticky web, but it held her fast. She would never be able to escape. On another day, she would have despaired, but she knew Sango would come on this final night for the ball. Freedom would come if she waited. After that though... Jorogumo might finally kill her.

The sun rose over the forest and baked on Kagome. Her skin was pale by nature, but saw sunlight when she tended the manor's grounds. It took a long time for her to begin to burn. Her lips dried the fastest and began to crack. Her ears and nose burned quickly too. Then, she became only aware of the thirst. The heat baked her and she was so thirsty. She struggled, but that only made her thirstier. Her torn shirt allowed the sun to beat on her wounds, drying and cracking them. Her scraped legs, her scratched belly, her torn cheek, her wounded temple—all baked in the sun. 

Kagome licked her lips, but it almost hurt more to moisten them. She closed her eyes against the blinding light and prayed for night. Sango would come for her and free her. She would go to the ball and then... she would run. She decided then, pinned to the side of the manor in the spider's web, that she had to run. No one cared for her. On any other day, Jorogumo's punishment would be a death sentence—a slow and agonizing death sentence. Kagome would die if she stayed. After tonight, she would plead with Kirara to take her as far as she could before the time ran out. Then, she would never look back.

Night did not come soon enough. 

Kagome heard Jorogumo's carriage depart and watched the tiny lanterns disappear over the trees. She waited, no longer burning but still in anguish and so thirsty, for Sango to rescue her. The woman seemed slow to arrive, but it must have been the same time as usual.

Without a word, Sango touched a finger to the webs and they crumbled into dust.

Kagome expected to fall to the cold earth, but Sango supported her with a hand. 

“Poor girl,” Sango said. “This might be too much even for the magic.” She touched Kagome's cracked lips tenderly.

“Thank you,” Kagome gasped, “for coming.”

Kagome felt too weak to walk, her legs and arms trembling, dizzy with dehydration. Sango held her under the elbow and ushered Kagome inside as though she were a cloud. She set her at the table and brought a glass of water. 

Kagome drank greedily and desperately.

“Tonight is the last night,” Sango said.

“I know,” Kagome murmured. 

“What shall you wear?”

Kagome thought of the beating baking sun and shuddered. “Something blue.”

Sango nodded. “I will do something for the burns, but the other wounds will remain. The magic will take the pain, as before.”

Kagome nodded gratefully.

Sango's touch was eerily cool. She caressed Kagome's face, exposed stomach, arms, and legs. Each place her fingers grazed, the ache of burning sun disappeared slowly. Kagome's lips moistened, but a long split remained at the corner of her mouth. “It is all I can do,” Sango said softly.

“Thank you,” Kagome said. 

“Kind girl.”

Then came the familiar wind. It seemed gentler, washing over Kagome's warm body and pulling back her hair. Her rags were replaced with a beautiful silvery-blue gown. It had a heart-shaped neckline and small cap sleeves. The skirt was sleek and trimmed with white lace. Simple, elegant, Kagome felt like a cloud. She was light and she could fly.

Tonight was the night.

“Kirara will take you wherever you need to go,” Sango said.

Kagome looked at her, but Sango gave no indication of knowing what Kagome planned. 

Sweeping up her skirts, Kagome fetched her father's book from the basement and brought it with her. Kirara waited but Sango was gone. Kagome climbed astride the demon cat, an act made easier by the slit in the side of her dress that was mostly hidden by the billowy silk. She tipped hear head back though her hair had been neatly pinned and curled. Closing her eyes, she soaked up the flight for the final time. 

Kirara landed in front of the castle and the reptilian footmen helped Kagome down.

“Keep this safe for me, please,” Kagome said to Kirara and set her father's book into the demon's care. 

Kirara roared softly and seemed to nod. 

Kagome climbed the steps for the final time and stepped inside. This time, she paused and looked around. She absorbed every detail of the Inu Clan's castle from the tiles to the vaulted ceiling. She would never see something like this again. Maybe, a very long time from now, she would reclaim her father's manor but not any time soon. She would not see the inside of the Inu's castle again for certain.

Tonight, she didn't bother to greet Inu no Taisho and Inuyasha. However, when she glanced towards the throne, she saw Inuyasha standing alone with golden armor on over his fine red suit, looking even more bored than before. Without his father's presence, ladies fawned over him. 

She took a goblet of juice, drank it, and then let herself onto the dance floor. The music wasn't as upbeat as before, but it was still enough to delight her. She was graceful though not skilled. She danced alone, swirling in her beautiful sky-colored dress. She lifted her arms above her head and smiled.

Other young ladies danced alongside her, far more gracefully and with obvious skill, but Kagome hardly noticed them. She just enjoyed herself, listening to the music and feeling the stunning gown around herself. She was without pain and she was going to be free. She was happy for the first time since her father passed away.

Then, it shattered.

“Bastard!”

Kagome stopped dead in her tracks, fear lancing down her spine. She knew that voice.

“Who are you to ignore me?!” Jorogumo roared up above the crowd of beautiful women. She had stripped off whatever guise she had worn tonight and raged on impossibly long sharp spider legs. Her hair lashed around her head like colored smoke, thrashing from shade to shade, and her black eyes were daggers. She lashed out with her nails, venom-tipped and gleaming green and red in turns. “You're just a worthless half-breed!”

The human women scattered at the hideous sight of Jorogumo. Several demons stood aside to watch the spectacle unfold, but most departed sedately. They didn't want to be involved with this jealous mess. Inu no Taisho wouldn't stand for it, especially in his castle.

Inuyasha stood beneath her onslaught like a rock in the middle of a river, letting the current crash against him yet heedless of it. His eyes were brighter than lanterns, his mouth quirked with a grin, and his long hair fluttered behind him. Kagome supposed he wasn't bored any longer.

Jorogumo attacked Inuyasha in a flurry, stabbing wildly downwards with her legs like a drunk throwing darts. Inuyasha dodged each blow easily, but the stunning ballroom began to break apart. The ceiling cracked when Jorogumo bashed down a supporting pillar. Dust plumed in the air and webs plastered the walls.

It was all happening so fast!

A young girl, maybe ten years old, in a brilliant blue-green gown that must have been too long for her to run in, stood in horror too close to Jorogumo's legs. One step would crush her—if the collapsing ballroom didn't first.

Inuyasha's sharp gaze flickered from Jorogumo to Kagome to the girl in between blows.

Kagome was just standing there like a fool, she realized. She needed to run. She already knew what kind of damage Jorogumo could inflict.

But the girl—

“Even now, you choose not to pay attention to me!” Jorogumo shrieked. Her needle-sharp legs cracked the tiles as she turned her attention to where Inuyasha was looking. “Die, worthless humans!”

Without hesitation, Kagome dove for the child. Her long skirt should have tripped her, but it billowed like wings. She grabbed the young girl to herself and shielded her from the spider's deadly blow. Jorogumo's legs were sword-sharp and Kagome expected to die, but the demon's talons struck harmlessly against Kagome's dress. The magic protected her. 

In an instant, Inuyasha leaped into Jorogumo's mess of legs and shredded her from the inside out.

Gore splattered around them, hot and revolting, but Kagome continued to shelter the girl.

Just like that, it was over. 

The demon who had ruined Kagome's life was gone. She didn't even know if Jorogumo had recognized her at the end and she never would. Though impossibly relieved, she felt stunned and empty. How could so much suffering end in an instant?

“Thank you,” the little girl whispered. “You saved me.”

“Don't mention it,” Kagome said softly.

The little girl untangled herself from Kagome's arms, bowed to Inuyasha, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. A young fox demon stood in her place, looking pleased with himself. “I might not have been in any real danger, but she certainly was. How about it, Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha waved the kit away. “Give us time, Shippo. You see to it that everyone else leaves and send for someone to clean up this mess.”

Kagome stared first at Shippo and then at Inuyasha. “You... you planned this?”

“Not all of it,” Inuyasha said dismissively. “I was planning to have a pillar topple on accident, but the spider-bitch was so much better. I got to vent a little aggression.” His claws were pitch black with blood.

He might have been part human, but he was still a demon just like Jorogumo. He clearly reveled in the carnage around him. Stinking dark blood stained Kagome's beautiful dress, stuck in her hair, and coated her skin. All at once, she was afraid and she was angry. She snapped to her feet, turned from him, and ran for all she was worth.

“Wait!” Inuyasha shouted.

Maybe he meant to kill her too. Maybe he knew she had lived with Jorogumo, maybe he knew nothing at all. Maybe he just wanted more blood to spill and everyone had seen Kagome dive for the young girl. No one would miss her if she never emerged from the Inu's castle. 

No one would miss her at all.

Kagome bolted through the heart-shaped garden, shouting for Kirara. The demon cat waited, prancing urgently from foot to foot. The magic was fading, Kagome realized. She felt her beautiful dress begin to dissolve, leaving her in bloodied rags. As the magic departed, the pain rushed in. It felt like lightning striking her—it came on so quickly. Her head throbbed, her belly ached, and her stiff scraped legs cracked as she ran. She stumbled once, lost her footing as her father's boots reformed, and fell to the ground. The hard cobblestones cut into her hands and knees. Kirara hastened to her, but the last dregs of magic peeled away. The book fell. 

The tiny demon cuddled into Kagome's chin and mewled.

The castle doors crashed open and Inuyasha shouted, “Wait! Damn it!”

Kagome lay on the cobblestones, unable to will herself to move. So much of her body hurt and the exhaustion from being left to die in the sun carved into her. Though she wanted to flee, to live, she could not. She waited for him to catch up to her, to rend her to pieces, to end everything. She stretched out a hand for her father's book—at least she would see him again.

Inuyasha's footsteps thundered closer and then he stopped beside her. He had sharp toenails. 

Kagome flinched into the cobbles, shielding her head with her hands. 

Cautiously, Inuyasha knelt beside her. His clawed hands were gentle as he pried from her head. She thought he wanted access to wound her, but he only helped her rise into a sitting position. His surprise at her appearance—both the rags and the wounds—showed on his face. “These didn't happen just now,” he murmured. “Shit...”

Kagome didn't know what he meant.

With increased tenderness, he lifted her up and carried her to a nearby bench. He was so gentle, mindful of her scraped knees and bruised legs, that she almost didn't know what to think. He set her down, shrugged out of his armor with a loud clatter, removed his velvet jacket, and draped it around her shoulders. It was warm from his body and warded off the night's chill. He wore nothing beneath it and his bare golden skin glowed in the moonlight. Kagome meant to look away, but found herself tracing the lines of his physique. No wonder he had slain Jorogumo so quickly though he was surprisingly slender.

Kirara sat at Kagome's feet with the book, purring. 

“Magic?” Inuyasha asked. His sharp claws carefully pushed the sheared hair away from the aged wound on her temple. 

Kagome shrugged and winced. Her skin was so tender from being burned. It seemed Sango's magic on her burns was temporary as well. “It doesn't matter,” she murmured.

Inuyasha smoothed the strand of hair between his fingers. “What's your name?” 

“Kagome,” she said. Her lips cracked.

Inuyasha took her chin in his hand and examined her battered face. His golden eyes were soft and pained. “Who did this to you?”

“That spider-woman that you killed,” Kagome murmured. Her lips cracked further and she tasted blood. She lifted a hand to wipe her mouth, but he caught her hand. “But—” 

Inuyasha hushed her. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers. She wanted to pull away, but she feared what would happen if she did. Wordlessly, Inuyasha traced his tongue over her lips. Immediately, she felt the pain ebb. Her lips mended slightly and stopped bleeding. He did the same to the scratch on her cheek. Pulling away, he licked his lips. “Well, she'll never hurt you again. No one will.”

Kagome touched her mouth and felt the healing skin in awe. “How did you...?”

“I am part dog demon,” he said. “My saliva heals wounds.”

He rested a hand on her thigh, claws glinting in the moonlight. He had cleaned Jorogumo's blood from his hand, though not thoroughly. He looked at the bruises and scars that lined her thigh beneath his hand. For a moment, Kagome thought he would lick all of her, but he instead offered, “Let me take you inside. We have medical supplies.”

Kagome nodded and started to stand.

Inuyasha picked her up instead. She should have protested being held to his bare chest, but it was so warm in his arms. He carried her back through the carnage of the shattered ballroom and into the castle itself. He wove through many hallways and finally emerged in a kitchen where he set her gently on the counter and began to pull things from the cabinets. Wordlessly, he tended the many scratches on her legs and belly. There was little to be done for the burns that covered her pale flesh. 

Kagome watched the top of his head, studying the tiny swivels and movements of his cute ears. She stretched out her hand to touch without thinking of the consequences, realized what she was doing, and hesitated. 

“Kagome,” Inuyasha said softly and straightened up. Kneeling at her feet with her seated on the counter, his chin rested near her knee. “Will you become mine?”

She gaped at him, shocked. The ball had been held in order for him to find a bride, but still—“Why me?”

His lips quirked in a smile. “Because you were the only one who went to rescue the girl, even knowing that you could have been hurt. You protected her.”

Kagome lowered her face, but he raised her chin.

“You can say no,” he said softly, meeting her eyes, “if you're disgusted by me.”

Of all the things she had been expecting, that was not it. 

“No!” she blurted. “Why would I be—?”

“A demon has hurt you,” Inuyasha interrupted gently. “Besides that, many are repulsed by the union of a human and a demon, by a half-breed like me. It isn't natural.”

Kagome thought of Sango's magic, of her own father, of herself. “Many things are not natural,” she said.

Inuyasha dipped his head to her hands, allowing her to gently touch his ears. They were so soft and shivered very slightly. Kagome bowed over and tucked her face into the top of his head. He wound his arms around her and held her silently. It had been so long since anyone had touched her so kindly, dressed her wounds, cared about her. She was overcome—this was more than she had ever imagined. She fought tears.

“Not yet,” she heard herself say.

“Oh?” he remarked. 

“I want to get to know you,” she murmured. “No one falls in love in one night.”

He chuckled. “As much time as you need,” he said. “Now, let's get you into a bath.” He chose some herbs seemingly at random. “These will help heal your skin.”

Kagome started to stand, but he swept her into his arms again. She didn't bother to protest and instead curled into his embrace. He smelled wonderful, his skin was so soft, and his heartbeat thumped steadily against her cheek. She hadn't set out for this, but she was grateful nonetheless. She wished she could see Sango one more time, to thank her for everything.

Her father's mended book waited for her in the garden, inscribed with additional words of comfort.

**X:Cinders:X**

(1) Jorogumo means “binding bride” or can be directly translated as “woman spider.” In Japanese folklore during the Edo period, legend has it that a beautiful woman would entice a man into a quiet shack and begin to play a lute. While the victim would be distracted by the sound of the instrument, she binds her victim in spider silk threads in order to devour the unsuspecting person as her next meal.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	2. Glass

I've been revisiting my childhood lately.

**X:Glass:X**

_Inuyasha stood at the open grave of his mother and wept freely. He knew it was over. It was all over. Everything was over. His life as he knew it would end—would end only if he was very very lucky. However, he already knew his demon blood—no, his half-demon blood—would prevent anything so merciful. It would both condemn him and protect him, torment him and save him, torture him and heal him._

_His human pieces, his demon blood._

_His human soul, his demon hands._

_His human tears, his demon strength._

_His human mother, his demon father._

_His parents were both dead now. He would never know where his father's grave was and he knew already that he would be lucky to ever see his mother's again. A void of hell awaited him. He knew it already, even as his stepfather threw a shovelful of grave soil into the open pit. He could only imagine his mother's face._

_His stepfather returned to his side and hooked a powerful hand over his small shaking shoulder. “Say goodbye,” he said coldly._

_And Inuyasha did._

_He said goodbye to everything._

_His life ended._

The splintering roof of the doghouse shook violently. Inuyasha shot up so sharply that he bashed his head into the low-hanging ceiling. Stinging pain lanced through his head and back. Damn it, how could he not have smelled them coming? Right, his nose was clotted with blood and he couldn't smell anything beyond the stink clinging to his skin. How long had he been locked in this tiny stifling space? 

His home, his prison.

His doghouse.

“Wake up, half-breed,” came the delighted voice of his stepfather's young son. “Do you want to eat?”

Crushed inside the doghouse which wasn't tall enough for him to sit up in nor long enough for him to stretch his legs out, Inuyasha sat awkwardly with his head ducked and his legs folded in front of him. Every inch of his body was cramped, including his empty stomach. He hadn't eaten or been freed from his cage in days. 

It felt more like decades, but he supposed it had been years since his mother died. He had been nine and he lost track of his age now. It was easy enough to do when he couldn't see the passage of the days nor had anyone to celebrate with him. Hell, he couldn't even remember his birth date any longer. His head was filled to bursting with tiny hope to avoid being beaten and endless lists of things that would certainly get him beaten.

“No?” giggled the child. “I can have your share?”

The doghouse vibrated violently. 

“Get down, Muso,” Onigumo said evenly. “You'll break his little house. Do you want him to sleep in the cold?”

Inuyasha almost wished that Muso would break the doghouse. Anything would be better than imprisonment in this small cramped space.

“I suppose not,” Muso said as though he didn't really care. The doghouse stopped shaking as he hopped down.

“Here, Muso, feed the dog.”

The door of the doghouse opened on creaking hinges and Inuyasha forced himself not to scramble for the fresh air and relative freedom. He waited until Muso put down the silver dog bowl and stepped back to stand beside Onigumo's hand-stitched leather boots. Business must have been going well for him to afford such niceties. 

His every joint crackling, Inuyasha slunk out of the doghouse. It was dark and cool, the moon hung high in the sky, and there were no clouds to be seen. The grass had grown high around Inuyasha's hands and ankles. By his estimate, after seeing the grass, he had been trapped inside his doghouse for over one week. Fresh water glimmered in the bowl that was set at Onigumo's feet. Parched, Inuyasha forced himself not to desperately drink. He waited for Onigumo to speak.

“Even a dog like you can see that the grass needs to be cut,” Onigumo said. “Take care of it and you'll get dinner.”

Muso bounced on the soles of his feet, excited.

Inuyasha caught himself mentally going through his list of reasons to be beaten, wondering what had would do to deserve it this time. He shook his head slightly. There was never a reason he deserved it. They did it because they could, because they liked to, because Inuyasha was half of nothing and therefore lower than nothing.

“Go ahead, dog, drink,” Onigumo said.

To thirsty to be ashamed, Inuyasha lowered his mouth to the dog bowl. If he had been able to breathe through his crushed nose, he would have smelled it, but he could not. The first touch of his lips, he knew, but it was too late. Searing pain lanced through his lips, teeth, tongue, and down his throat. Agonized, he tried to pull away, but Onigumo planted a heavy boot at the base of his neck. His face was submerged in the searing water. He battled not to inhale, not to make it worse for himself, but he struggled desperately. The water splashed all over his face, into his mouth and nose, over his eyes, and burned everywhere it touched.

“You're right, father,” Muso said delightedly. “His human bits didn't protect him.”

Onigumo finally removed his boot.

Gasping, Inuyasha ripped away from the bowl. He lifted shaking hands to his face, but couldn't bear to touch even to wipe away the remaining water. It would only spread, burning more and more and more. He let the water drip from his chin, trying to focus on breathing through his mouth. His tongue throbbed, his throat felt raw, and his thirst was worse.

“Get to work,” Onigumo said coldly. Taking Muso's hand, he walked back into the mansion and let the door slam.

Inside, Inuyasha heard the tinkling laughter of Onigumo's second wife. She must have been watching from the window, though she never came outside. 

Trembling, Inuyasha turned his face into the night breeze and wished it would dry his skin. It would take his skin a long time to heal since he had been injured so badly with purified salted water. Things like that were blessed specifically to combat demons and to press his face into a bowl of it... Inuyasha shivered. At least he was out of the doghouse for now.

Moving cautiously away from the bowl of water, he stretched his legs out on the soft grass followed by his arms. His back popped and creaked as he stretched. Carefully, he eased to his feet, but his demon blood made certain his muscles would not atrophy no matter how long he sat in that miserable little house. Still, his body shook as he pumped blood into his extremities by moving. He didn't wait long before he opened the garden shed, which was luxuriously large compared to his tiny doghouse, and pulled out the scythe that he used to trim the lawn.

He began cutting in low swaths, gathering the sheared grass as he went. It was slow hard work, but it allowed him time out of his doghouse and he was grateful for that. The longer he worked, the longer he would be allowed out. His throat was scratchy and the burning sensation continued to throb inside his mouth. He wished he could put his head under running water and stay there for a few hours, but that wasn't an option. If Onigumo caught him drinking without permission, he would flay all the skin off his back. If he caught him only cutting the grass, he was just as likely to do the same thing, but hopefully he would lock Inuyasha in the doghouse for less time. 

It took a few hours to cut the grass on the manor's grounds. By the time he finished, the sun was beginning to crest over the treetops and cast a golden glow over the freshly-mowed lawn. Inuyasha rested against the scythe to admire his handiwork. It looked excellent, if he did say so himself. His sensitive ears swiveled as he listened to the sounds of Muso playing upstairs. He couldn't sense Onigumo's presence inside the manor which made him increasingly nervous. Where was that spider?

Inuyasha's nose twitched, scenting out the food cooking inside the manor and the dew clinging to the leaves of a nearby tree. He tried to place the last time he had eaten anything, but his thirst was overwhelming. He didn't mind being hungry so much as being thirsty. His thirst coupled with the searing burns inside his throat made breathing feel like a chore. He licked his lips, tasted blood, winced at the peeling flesh, and stopped himself from doing more damage. Hopefully Onigumo would choose to show some mercy on him.

The grass felt nice beneath his bare feet as he carried the scythe back to the garden shed. He tucked it inside, closed the shed, settled the bags of cut grass beside it, and debated the wisdom of sitting down to rest. Luckily, Onigumo emerged from the manor as soon as he finished. The demon's eyes traced over the lawn and fell on Inuyasha. He smiled and a shiver raced down Inuyasha's spine.

Onigumo carried another silver bowl across the lawn. Inuyasha tensed as he approached, wondering if another shower of scalding purified water was about to splatter on his exposed skin. His skin still throbbed, his face and throat especially. However, Onigumo set the bowl down a few feet away from Inuyasha. 

Inuyasha inhaled the scent of food. 

“You did a good job on the lawn,” Onigumo said. “Here, your breakfast.”

Inuyasha kept his face lowered as he approached the bowl. He walked hunched over, almost crouched, to make a small target of himself and hopefully risk less of Onigumo's rage. His nose twitched and his ears swiveled, betraying him, as his eyes fell on the bowl. Food, but no water...

“Something you'd like to say, half-breed?” The tone of Onigumo's voice was as sharp and cold as steel. 

Inuyasha dropped to his knees and bowed over, protecting his belly and scalded face from blows. 

“What could you possibly ask for?” Onigumo remarked. “I've given you food and I've given you water. I've been very generous. Would you have me regret my generosity?”

Inuyasha shook his head, not daring to speak.

“I expect you to show gratitude then,” Onigumo said.

Inuyasha trembled.

Onigumo put his boot against the top of his head, pressing on his soft sensitive ears. “Enjoy your breakfast, half-breed.” Pressing down and releasing the pressure in a way that was almost a kick yet not quite, Onigumo walked away.

Inuyasha straightened slightly so that he could kneel before his bowl. Though it was filled to the brim with scraps, they were poorer than usual—egg shells, burned bacon, rinds of ham, stale bread that crumbled in his fingers, moldy fruit—and Onigumo intended him to eat all of them and drink what remained of the purified water. Inuyasha swallowed, feeling his scalded throat ache. Was it better to get the pain over with before dining on his meager feast or eat with the pain in his throat increased?

The bread was dry and rock-hard. He crumbled it finely and held the crumbs in his palms, staring sadly at the bread as though it was the equivalent of sand. After a long moment, he licked the crust slowly from his hands. His mouth dried further and the breadcrumbs stuck in his seared mouth. At last, it was gone. 

Inuyasha crushed the eggshells finely as well and did the same. Sharp pieces cut his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. As he swallowed, the eggshells shredded what remained of his throat. The burned bacon went down easier, but left a terrible aftertaste. He brushed the mold off the strawberries with the pad of his thumb. Though squishy, they were at least moist and sweet. He sighed in pleasure.

At last, he chewed the rinds of ham. What little meat remained was tender and the rind was tough, but he was happy to have some meat in his belly. The bowl of scraps sat empty before him. Besides the dry bread and eggshells, he wished for more, but knew that would never happen. 

Steeling himself, he carried the empty bowl over to the first. The bowl had been filled to the brim with purified water when Onigumo first brought it out, but submerging Inuyasha's face and the subsequent struggling had spilled most of it out. Only a few mouthfuls remained, but it was not much relief. A single mouthful would hurt just as much as the fifth and tenth. Inuyasha picked up the bowl and gulped the remains before he could hesitate. His lips cracked and bled anew, his throat blistered, and stomach churned when the purification met his innards. He doubled over in pain, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to ward off the tears of agony. 

He might have lost consciousness at the blessed water chewed him from the inside on out but he couldn't be sure. He lay on his side in the soft grass, stretched out the way his doghouse wouldn't allow him, and stared at the forest around him. Birds twittered and sang, the breeze was cool, and his was only in a little pain. Things would get worse, he knew, but for now they were not terrible.

Around noon, he heard voices at the door, but couldn't make out what they were saying. The blessed water, working against his very blood and soul, finally dragged him into unconsciousness. He knew the pain was excruciating, but he did not feel it within the void of nothingness. 

XXX

When Inuyasha woke the next night, he lay where he had passed out. His entire body was frozen and he was soaked, worn clothing clinging to his skin. It had been raining for a long time, if the soft mud sunken around his body was any indication. His long tangled hair was matted to his head with water and his fingertips were numb with cold. Even so, he was delighted by the rain. He both cupped his hands and tipped his head back, drinking all that managed to fall into his mouth and hands in turn. The cool water soothed his burned throat and insides. He lost track of how long he drank when, finally, gasping for breath, he realized that he was not alone.

Onigumo stood over him, a look of rage on his face. 

Inuyasha did not know what had happened or if it was his fault for drinking without permission. The blow cracked his skull and blurred his vision. He fell face-first into the muck and didn't dare move. Over the sound of the rain, he heard Onigumo walk away and go inside the manor. For a long time, all was silent. Then, without opening the door, Onigumo towered over him again.

Inuyasha braced for the blow, but it did not fall on him. 

“Are you going to get up? Or just lie there?”

The voice was so unfamiliar that Inuyasha couldn't help himself. He sat up sharply and turned his eyes on the face of the one who had spoken.

A stranger stood above him, untouched by the rain yet not shielded from it with anything Inuyasha could see. He carried a sacred staff and wore royal purple. Inuyasha could smell magic and power. This was his death, he realized. Onigumo must have tired of him. This man was here to cleanse his very existence. No one would ever know he had lived and he supposed no one needed to know either. What had he ever done that was worth remembering?

“Well?” the stranger said again. “I haven't got all day—er, all night—and neither have you. Time is short. Get up!”

His tone brought Inuyasha to his feet in an instant. 

“Much better,” the man said. “God, you're a mess.”

“W-who are you? What do you want with me?” Inuyasha choked out. He felt something inside his mouth split open and tasted blood. It seemed the blessed water was not finished with him yet. He suppressed a tiny whimper of pain, but badly. His insides still burned. 

The man leaned closer, examining him with a clinical eye. “He did a number on you, didn't he? Damn.”

“W-who?”

“'Who?'” the man repeated. “That gash on your head must have damaged your mind.” Stretching out his staff, he pushed some of Inuyasha's silver hair to the side to look at the wound closer. “Well, she did ask that all eligible beings attend.”

“She?”

“No time for that now,” he said. “You'll see soon enough. Now, I think red would look nice though it looks like you've got enough of it on you already.”

“Red?”

“So many one-word questions,” the man said shortly. He jabbed his staff into Inuyasha's middle.

Inuyasha braced himself for a wave of pain, but nothing happened. From the point of the staff, a warm light began to envelope him. He was being purified, he thought, and it would all be over soon. It was over quickly, but not the way he had expected. When the light faded, Inuyasha was dressed in a well-made red suit. It fit his body nicely, though displayed how thin he was, and complemented his pale skin and hair. Only his golden eyes stood out of place against the red, making him look like someone that had walked out of a fire. 

“Much better, much better,” the strange man said. “Now for some transportation.” He marched around the wet yard, looking for something and muttering to himself. After a moment, he spotted a raccoon in the underbrush and jabbed it with his staff a good bit more ferociously than he had Inuyasha.

“Ow, Master!” came a high voice. 

A tanuki emerged from the woods. Plump and wearing a patterned shirt, his big eyes fell on Inuyasha. “Is this him?”

“I think so.”

“You think, Master?” 

The man shrugged.

The tanuki pinched his long nose and shook his head. “I'll get him there. Maybe you should keep looking...”

In another blaze of light, the man disappeared entirely, leaving Inuyasha alone with the tanuki and barefoot. 

“I am called Hachi,” the tanuki said. 

“Inuyasha.”

Hachi sniffed, but did not comment on the human blood he surely could smell in Inuyasha's veins. He pressed a leaf to his head and, in a puff of colored smoke, transformed into a long yellow gourd-shaped demon. He hovered several feet off the ground, but appeared more buoyant than propelled. “Climb aboard. I'll take you.”

“Take me where?”

“To the ball.”

“What ball?”

“Just get on. I don't have the time for this.”

Inuyasha climbed onto the tanuki's back, but found nothing to hold on to. Before he could protest, Hachi floated into the night sky and began to streak towards a distant castle. Inuyasha hadn't been off the manor grounds—or out of his doghouse much—since his mother's funeral. He hadn't realized such a castle had even been built. It glowed, warm and bright, a beacon of firelight and food scents. Hachi lowered himself in the castle's great driveway and tilted so that Inuyasha slid carelessly from his back. If not for a footman standing patiently beneath, Inuyasha would have fallen on his face.

“Midnight,” Hachi said in a distorted voice. “I'll be back for you. Don't forget. The magic will wear off by then.” Quietly, more to himself, he muttered, “My master is a slacker.” Then, Hachi floated away and Inuyasha was left alone on the castle steps.

The footman bearing an umbrella ushered him to the doors and left him standing there in the golden light. With his long hair billowing, his face still seared, and his feet bare, Inuyasha felt foolish despite his lovely suit of crimson. What exactly happened? How had he come to be here like this? What should he do now?

A well-dressed human passed him and disappeared inside.

Inuyasha followed, confused.

A massive ballroom opened before him, set with countless tables of delicacies and a massive fountain in the room's center. A band played cheerfully and the chandelier tinkled overhead. Humans and demons alike filled the large room, though they mostly segregated themselves from each other. However, a long line had formed and Inuyasha could not see what lay at its end. 

Curious, he followed the flow of people until he found himself face to face with a beautiful young woman. She was as stunning as he remembered his mother having been. She wore a dress in a shade of green that flattered her every curve and supple swell. Between her breasts hung a jewel on a gold chain. Her hair was like ink, spilling in loose curls down her shoulders, and her skin was a shade of polished ivory. Her pink lips smiled easily as her chocolate eyes took in every detail of him from his bare feet to his pointed dog ears. As she examined his seared mouth, a tiny frown creased her perfect smile.

Inuyasha stepped backwards immediately, ashamed to have darkened her mood.

“No, no,” she said sweetly. Her voice was gentle yet firm. “Come closer.”

Inuyasha found himself unable to step away.

She stretched out her hands and he smelled the purity in her blood. She was a miko and a very powerful one at that. But why were all these demons here in her presence? Why would they risk her purification, her powers, her wrath? Humans detested demons, didn't they? Except for his mother, who had loved his father beyond all measure.

The young woman took his face in her hands and he winced. It hurt so badly to have even the slightest pressure on his battered flesh. He wanted desperately to pull himself from her hands, but did not dare risk angering her.

A hush fell across the room though the band still played on.

Inuyasha closed his eyes, fighting the pain, but he felt a warmth begin to spread from beneath her hands. For the second time that night, he thought he would be killed where he stood. Yet from the warmth, the pain began to ebb. He felt his split lips begin to mend and his aching throat was soothed. 

“There now,” the young woman said with a gentle smile. “Is that better?”

Inuyasha's hand trembled as he reached to touch his face. She had healed the burns on him. He couldn't believe it. “Y-yes, thank you,” he breathed out.

“You seemed surprised,” she said and laughed slightly. “Do you know me?”

He shook his head.

“I am Kagome Higurashi,” she said.

The name meant nothing to him, but Inuyasha's mother had taught him to be polite no matter the situation. No matter how long she had been gone, he would honor her. He took the young woman's hand and gently brought it to his healed mouth. He wanted to lavish her anything she desired in gratitude for healing his agony, but he did not dare and he had nothing to offer her. Instead, he placed his lips to the back of her hand for one brief moment in the barest of kisses. “Thank you,” he breathed. He looked up into her face, read her surprise, and hastily lowered her hand. Inuyasha backpedaled and disappeared into the crowd before she could say anything to him.

Lost in the crowded ballroom, Inuyasha soon felt countless eyes watching him. Humans and demons alike scorned his presence. In a room full of people who hated each other, they hated him more. Inuyasha sought a hasty retreat, but more demons and humans entered the way he had come. He fled past the fountain and found himself outside. The veranda was lit with lanterns yet deserted. The cold and the rain must have kept everyone inside. Inuyasha was grateful to be alone. He collapsed against the wall and gingerly touched his face. He couldn't believe that woman had healed him and so easily.

“Beverage?” 

Startled, he turned to face the female who had approached him. He could smell demon on her yet she was clearly human. Her eyes were lined with crimson make-up and she carried a sword at her waist yet she wore a servant's uniform. On her tray, there was a single goblet and plate of treats. She handed both to him without waiting for an answer and then walked away. Puzzled but pleased nonetheless, Inuyasha dug into the plate and drank happily. Only when everything was gone did he wish he had savored things a little longer. 

Leaning against the castle wall, listening to the jolly music with his belly full, his thirst quenched, and his pain healed, Inuyasha could have slept. He might have dozed because someone called his name suddenly. He looked up to see Hachi's yellow shape hanging on the other side of the veranda. The rain had even stopped.

“Did you have a good time?” Hachi asked as Inuyasha climbed onto his back. “Your face looks better.”

“She healed it.”

“Lady Kagome did?”

“You know her?”

“We work for her.”

Inuyasha didn't ask why or how. If given the opportunity, he would gladly work for her as well, but knew that would never happen. Onigumo would never let him go.

“We'll come back for you tomorrow night,” Hachi said as he landed in front of the manor once again. 

Surprised, Inuyasha asked, “Tomorrow?”

“The ball lasts three days,” Hachi said by way of explanation. 

“And then what?”

“Then Lady Kagome will choose someone to stand at her side,” Hachi said. 

“A... a husband?” Inuyasha asked.

Hachi transformed back into a tanuki and shrugged. “Maybe in time.” With that, the raccoon-dog disappeared into the foliage.

A moment later, Inuyasha's well-made suit dissolved into orbs of light and rushed away like a homing beacon. Though alone and standing in mud, Inuyasha was happier than he had been in a very long time. His belly was full, Kagome had healed him, and he would get to go back tomorrow.

XXX

Onigumo woke the half-breed with a knife. It was easy enough to do. The foolish wretch lay on his side, curled small, in the mud outside. He slept soundly, which surprised Onigumo but allowed him to thrust the blade between Inuyasha's ribs not once or twice, but three full times. Stifling a scream of anguish, the half-breed tried to struggle away though he didn't dare lash out at Onigumo. The full-demon could grind Inuyasha's bones into gravy with his pinky and, though it was wise not to struggle, Onigumo always wished the half-breed would fight. 

How dare that miko send her message into this house asking only for those 'eligible' and yet deny Onigumo passage. What was he not eligible for that Muso was? His son had gone off as soon as he could last night, forcing Onigumo to watch from the shadows. He couldn't even see inside the castle's windows. Rage seethed inside him.

He vented it on the half-breed whelp that his wife had kept from her first marriage. He had wanted to know what the great Inu no Taisho had seen in her, but she was just a human woman—worthless and fragile. Onigumo had been grateful for her swift death though it left him burdened with her useless spawn. Times like this, he was pleased to have Inuyasha at his disposal.

Inuyasha did not plead for the knife to stop, but his bright golden eyes and fuzzy ears spoke volumes that his mouth never would. Flattened against his head and gazing up at him desperately, Inuyasha rolled across the blood-smeared grass in attempt to flee the knife. Onigumo caught his hand and skewered it into the earth. The soft mud did not pin Inuyasha's limb, but the knife remained embedded in his flesh. Whimpering, he tried to shelter his hand against his chest. 

Onigumo grasped the blade and twisted.

Inuyasha cried out.

Onigumo jerked the blade out of his hand and stabbed again. He supposed there were things he liked about the half-breed. He liked the way he bled freely like a human yet healed almost as quickly as a full-blooded demon. In fact, the wounds from the blessed water had already healed from his face and Onigumo himself would have needed days to mend. He thrust the knife into Inuyasha's chest, right between the scum's ribs, and twisted it deeper. Inuyasha wailed between clenched teeth. 

“Onigumo,” his wife called sweetly. “Muso is awake! Come inside.”

Satisfied, Onigumo left the blade buried there and turned away. He wanted to talk to Muso about the ball at the castle. He left Inuyasha lying in the mixture of mud and blood and felt slightly better. He had no doubt that foolish lady-miko would choose Muso for whatever it was she needed in that castle of hers. Onigumo had greased plenty of palms to ensure it. When she did that, it would be the same as though she had chosen Onigumo. His position was secure.

And the half-breed would here there tomorrow.

Whimpering, Inuyasha rolled onto his back and gasped for breath. The hilt of the knife stood up from his ribcage like a gravestone. He grasped it, intending to pull it out, but the pain was too great. He let go and tipped his head back into the grass, panting. After a long moment, he grasped the knife again and tried to remove it. His bones screamed, but his flesh was already badly torn. Removing the knife was easy once he managed to block the pain. Onigumo had done worse to him after all.

With the blade removed, he felt his body begin to slowly heal. His torn flesh knit together, his bones ceased gushing marrow, and his pain decreased a little bit. He lay in the grass for a long time, listening to the birds singing in the trees and his own ragged heartbeat. Unbidden, he thought of Kagome who had healed him so easily. 

Not since his mother died had someone touched him gently.

The night did not come quickly enough, but nothing prevented it. When dusk finally fell, the strange man returned. Inuyasha heard his staff jingling as he approached and was not surprised by his arrival this time. Inuyasha inhaled deeply, trying to smell the man, but there was no scent besides magic and power. 

“Gods, you look even worse,” the man said. He bent over to look down at Inuyasha's face. “What are you doing, staying here?”

“Where would I go?” Inuyasha murmured. “There's no place for me.”

The man did not respond.

“Master Miroku,” came Hachi's voice. “Did you find others?”

“None worth my time,” Miroku answered. 

“That was not what you were supposed to do,” Hachi protested.

Miroku didn't answer. He pressed his staff to Inuyasha's chest just above the many wounds in his ribcage and light spread from that point. As before, Inuyasha was dressed in red. However, Miroku had added black shoes to complete the look. The mud and blood was cleansed from him, but the pain remained.

“Get up,” Miroku said. “You'll ruin your outfit.”

Aching, Inuyasha first sat up and then pulled himself to his feet. 

Miroku looked him over clinically. “Your face looks better.”

“Lady Kagome healed him,” Hachi said.

“Did she now?” Miroku asked delightedly. 

“I don't think it will keep her from yelling at you.”

Miroku did a little palms-up and disappeared.

Hachi sighed. “Come along, Inuyasha.”

Inuyasha waited for the tanuki to transform before he climbed painfully onto his back. The night was vast and beautiful. Without the rain darkening the horizon, Inuyasha could see mountains. It was truly beautiful and he tried to carve the sight into his heart. In one more night, he would see nothing but the roof of his doghouse until death came for him. Wincing when Hachi's flight jostled his stabbed chest, he wondered if that might be sooner than he thought.

Hachi landed in front of the castle again and a footman did not hasten to help Inuyasha inside. Without the rain to hurry everyone alone, Inuyasha had a moment to look up at the stunning castle before he followed the flow of demons and humans inside. Everything was arranged as before. Greedily, he thought to stand in line to see Kagome. Maybe she would heal him again, but he thought of the way she had looked after he kissed her hand. No, she didn't want to see him and he didn't want to force her to do so. 

Though he would have liked to eat, the scornful eyes on him forced him outside onto the veranda again. A few more people stood outside than the night previously, including a wolf demon in elaborate furs and armor. He sniffed and then glared at Inuyasha until he backed away. 

The night was cool and deep all around him. He breathed deeply, trying to pick Kagome's scent out of the many that perfumed the castle. She smelled of flowers and clean linen, miko magic and faith, stone and earth. It blended together in a cocktail that he almost couldn't believe. God, she smelled wonderful.

Then, he smelled a scent that was too familiar not to send chills down his spine. His sensitive ears turned at the sound of Muso's voice proclaiming through the ballroom. He did not hear Kagome answer, but he had a feeling she was being polite and patient with the spoiled demon child. Though she was kind and lovely, Inuyasha did not understand what could bring demons to her castle. What did they hope to gain from her that they did not scorn because she was human? Was it her powers as a miko, the power to heal with a touch, or something else entirely? What could they want from her?

Inuyasha strained his ears, trying to pick Kagome's voice from the hustle of the ball and the music. 

“My lady,” Muso said brightly. “My father and I can fetch you anything you desire.”

“That's very nice,” Kagome said. “Who is your father, young man?”

“Onigumo, the great spider demon,” Muso said with great pride. 

“That's very nice,” Kagome said again. “Why don't you have some cookies?”

Displeased by being dismissed, Muso tried to protest.

“They're chocolate dipped,” Kagome said brightly.

Despite them focus Onigumo must have tried to drill into the boy, Muso was easily swayed. 

Inuyasha listened to Kagome politely greet each of her guests. He tried to identify what she was seeking as she spoke to each person and what each was looking for in her. None of their conversations gave anything away. Each exchange was polite and courtly. Despite himself, Inuyasha listened to hear if she healed anyone else. Without seeing into the ballroom, he couldn't really tell, but it didn't seem that she used her powers on anyone.

Don't think yourself special, he reminded himself. You're not.

The wolf demon sidled towards him, bare toes exposing long claws that clicked on the floor. “So, what's a half-breed like you doing here?” he inquired. 

Inuyasha shrank away.

The wolf laughed. “Why would she bother inviting scum like you?”

Inuyasha couldn't answer. He wasn't even sure he had been invited. Hachi and Miroku had just shown up, dressed him, bustled him away, and dropped him off. He hadn't really had a choice. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be here after all. “I'll go,” he said hastily.

The wolf didn't stop him. 

Inuyasha circled the castle, staying the shadows and shelter of the veranda. By the time he reached the place where he had been able to hear Kagome's voice, the wolf had gone back inside. The music was even more upbeat than before, drowning out Kagome's voice completely. Something must have happened inside because there was an uproar of applause. 

“Goodnight everyone,” Kagome called. “Thank you for coming.”

Inuyasha heard the clock strike. He hadn't realized it was so late. Urgently, he circled the castle again in search of Hachi, but he couldn't find the tanuki or Miroku. The magic whooshed away from him as the moon rose to the highest point in the night sky. Barefoot, wearing his threadbare bloodstained clothing again, Inuyasha pressed himself deeper into the shadows. If someone found him here, dressed like this, he would be thrown down the castle steps like garbage and he wasn't sure he could take that pain.

It took some time for the ballroom to empty of demons and humans. Inuyasha only assumed it was when the band stopped playing and he heard servants begin to carry trays out. He listened to the bubble of the fountain, waiting worriedly for Hachi to return to him. His chest ached where he had been stabbed, but he could feel his healing working to mend the damage. In a few days, he would be as good as new. Aimlessly, he circled the veranda. 

Abruptly, a door opened and golden light spilled outside. 

Kagome's scent overwhelmed him. 

He plastered himself to the castle wall, praying that she wouldn't see him.

“It isn't working,” Kagome muttered. “I'm never going to find the right person.”

“Give it time,” a high-pitched voice, almost like that of a child, said. “I'm sure you'll find him. You're a wonderful person, Kagome.”

Kagome sighed and shifted. Maybe she was resting her elbows on the windowsill, looking out into the night. 

Inuyasha wished he could see the moonlight on her face.

“Miroku's still out looking for people who can't attend because of their circumstances,” Kagome murmured. “It's just... I don't know. I'm losing hope, Shippo.”

“Don't worry, Kagome, please.”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha jolted, worried that someone had caught him lurking outside Kagome's window. 

However, the voice belonged to Hachi. “Sorry I'm late,” the tanuki said breathlessly. “Come on.”

Inuyasha cast one more longing glance at the golden square of light. He could see Kagome's shadow outlined by the light, her hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders. A small shape crouched beside her in the window, clinging to her arm comfortingly. Inuyasha wished he could help her somehow, but he couldn't even help himself. 

“Inuyasha!”

Hastily, Inuyasha climbed onto Hachi's back and held on tightly as he was returned to the manor. He worried about arriving home after Muso, being caught away from the manor, but it didn't look like anyone had missed him. He wasn't sure why he had expected differently. A few windows glowed with light and Inuyasha could hear Muso and Onigumo speaking about the ball inside. 

“Tomorrow?” Inuyasha asked Hachi as he climbed down. 

“It's the last night,” Hachi said with a nod. 

“Hachi... how did you come to work for Kagome?” Inuyasha asked timidly.

Hachi didn't feel the weight of the question and instead said dismissively, “Me? Oh, I came on with Master Miroku. See you tomorrow.” Hachi floated away briskly, disappearing quickly into the dark despite his bright yellow color. 

Inuyasha made his way towards his doghouse and curled up in front of it in the grass. His chest throbbed and he felt a few drops of blood escape the gaping wound and slide across his skin. He could still smell the many scents of the ball on his clothes and hear Kagome's voice in his head. He slept peacefully until Onigumo woke him a few hours later with a brutal blow to the chest and stomach. 

Crying out in shock and pain, Inuyasha jerked away. He backed desperately into the doghouse to hide himself. Onigumo grasped the roof and kicked blindly inside. However, the doghouse was so small that he struck Inuyasha each time. His heavy boots found Inuyasha's knee, shin, groin, thigh, and finally his bare toes. Bruises blackened his skin. With his healing factor already focused on the stab wounds, the bruises did not heal at all. Onigumo continued to kick him, landing crushing blow after blow. 

When Onigumo tired of kicking, he slammed the doghouse door. Inuyasha strained his ears, listening for Onigumo's footsteps. He hoped that he would go back to sleep, but luck was never on his side. Onigumo returned a moment later with a poker that he usually used on the fireplace. He jabbed it through the broken roof. The sharp wrought-iron barb ripped through his shirt and stabbed into his shoulder. He cried out. 

Unable to predict where the poker would strike next, Inuyasha braced his entire body. Onigumo skewered the doghouse from the side. The poker slid between his knees and torn chest, missing his body entirely. He flinched, straining to avoid the next blow. Onigumo stabbed again from the side. The poker lanced his sensitive ears, ripping the tender skin and fine fur. He screamed, the pain bolting into his brain like lightning. 

He doubled over as best he could, trying to protect his ears with his clawed hands. Hot blood seeped against his palms. Onigumo stabbed twice more, scraping the tops of Inuyasha's hands and also spearing through his ribcage. His many knife wounds opened and bled anew. Onigumo tugged the poker, but it was caught horizontally through Inuyasha's chest and wouldn't be removed easily. Much to his horror, he heard Onigumo walk away and leave the poker embedded both in the doghouse and his body. In the already tiny space, Inuyasha was skewered and trapped. He whimpered and struggled. Every movement sent a spike of pain through his tattered ears. 

He could tell when the sun rose because it began to grow warm inside the doghouse. Breathing was already difficult and the stifling temperature did little to help. Around noon, he began to sweat and boil. Thirst clogged his throat again. The temperature declined very slowly after that and soon he knew it was night. 

“Hey, where are you?”

“H-here,” Inuyasha choked. 

He heard hasty footsteps and then the doghouse door was wrenched open. Miroku stared in at him, horror marking every line of his face. “God, how did you even fit in there? Come on out.” Miroku offered his hand, tangled with sacred prayer beads.

Inuyasha shook his head. 

“What? They won't hurt you,” Miroku said. 

“Not that,” Inuyasha gasped and indicated his ribs.

“Gods.” Miroku murmured. He disappeared from the front of the doghouse.

Inuyasha screamed as the poker was wrenched from the doghouse. Blood gushed from his ribs on either side where he had been stabbed, but the relief he felt to no longer be pinned was worth the pain. He sagged out of the doghouse, crawled forward, and collapsed in the grass.

“Maybe you shouldn't go,” Miroku said kindly. “You're hurt badly.”

“I want to go,” Inuyasha gasped out.

Hachi knelt beside him in the grass. “Kagome can heal him again.”

Miroku nodded worriedly.

“No,” Inuyasha protested. “Don't tell her.”

“Why not?” Miroku asked.

“I don't want her to...” Inuyasha thought again of her face, her surprise when he had pressed his lips to her hand. She didn't like him. Certainly she didn't want to see him again. “She doesn't need to waste her time on me.”

“Inuyasha,” Hachi protested.

Miroku shook his head, tapped his staff gently to Inuyasha's chest, and transformed his clothing again. Luckily, the deep red hid the blood seeping from him. His demonic healing began to kick in, but with the stabs and bruises, they had too much to heal to do anything quickly. Miroku helped him to his feet and guided him to lean on Hachi's floating yellow form. He didn't say anything about the way Inuyasha's torn ears lowered with pain. Instead, he fashioned a fine hat with a feather to hide the wounds.

“It's the last night,” Miroku said.

“I know,” Inuyasha murmured.

“What are you going to do?” Hachi asked. 

“Nothing,” Inuyasha murmured. “I'm just a half-breed.”

Miroku sighed. 

Gently, Hachi lifted into the sky with Inuyasha on his back. He floated down at the gates of the castle again and let Inuyasha off. “Inuyasha...”

“It's fine,” he said. “I'll be fine.”

Hachi watched him wobble into the ballroom with his arm wrapped tightly around his middle. He didn't join the line of people again and instead made a beeline for the table of refreshments. Despite the glares spearing into his back, he helped himself to some snacks and a goblet of juice. He hastened onto the veranda again, ate and drank quickly, and peeked around the door frame. He could see Kagome greeting her guests with smiles. The elaborately-dressed wolf demon that had scorned Inuyasha the night before stood beside her. 

“Orochi,” Kagome greeted a serpent-faced demon. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate your support.”

“Anything for you, my lady,” he said and kissed her hand.

Kagome had the grace not to look revolted, but she didn't look pleased either. 

Inuyasha smiled slightly. Maybe she just didn't like to be kissed on the hand, but he didn't let himself believe that for long. His belly was full and his thirst was quenched. He held no hope that Kagome would accept a wounded half-demon such as him into her service. It would be better if he left now while Onigumo was busy waiting for Muso, while he was well-fed, while the cover of night was upon him. If he used all his strength, he could be over the mountains by sunrise. 

If he was smart, he would leave right now...

But, even when his mother had been alive, no one had ever accused Inuyasha of being particularly smart. 

Someone barreled out the door, passed Inuyasha, across the veranda, and into the night. 

“Stop him!” Kagome shouted.

Inuyasha took off as though sprung from a cannon. He darted after the demon at full-tilt without regard for his injuries. Each breath spiked through his lungs and ribs, robbing him, but he could smell Kagome behind him. He ran as hard as he could. The fleeing demon paused to jump the castle fence and Inuyasha lunged for him. However, the pain in his chest caused him to more crash into the demon. They collided with the stonework. The demon punched Inuyasha, first in the face and then in the stomach. Fresh blood burst from all his wounds at the blow. He toppled like a house of cards, landing on his back like a dropped stone.

The demon moved to spring over the fence again and Inuyasha clawed at his ankle. Kagome stopped just outside Inuyasha's line of vision.

“Stop, Naraku!” she shouted. 

Inuyasha craned his neck and saw her, poised there like a goddess. She wore a red gown, carried a large bow, and her loose hair flew around her head like smoke. An arrow, the tip of it gleaming with pure light, was notched in her bow. Smoothly, she let it fly and pinned the demon to the stone wall. He shrieked, the purity tearing through his polluted body. Kagome leased another arrow and the demon dissolved into dust all around Inuyasha. Gasping, he let his hand drop from where he had been ineffectually holding the demon. 

A pink stone not much larger than a marble on a golden chain landed beside his head. It glowed brightly and pulsed, calling out to him. Kagome had been wearing it around her neck, he realized, such a powerful thing. If he picked it up, it crooned, all his pain would go away. The human blood that poisoned his veins would cease to exist. He could have a place in this world, a place where no one would hurt him anymore, a place where he was respected and feared. 

Kagome had stopped completely, watching him.

Inuyasha rolled over onto his stomach, picked up the jewel, and shakily got to his feet. The stone continued to call to him, whispering treasures and pleasures. It would grant his every desire, but Kagome was looking at him with sparkling eyes and her hair was flowing across her bare shoulders. She looked beautiful and regal and patient. He held out his hand, the jewel lying in his bloodstained palm. He offered it to her without hesitation.

Kagome took it from him gently and slipped the chain over her head. The jewel lay between her breasts, but Inuyasha did not stare at either. He looked up into her face, once again stunned by her beauty. 

She smiled at him and said, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he murmured.

“You're hurt,” she said gently. “Let me help you.” 

She stretched out her hands, gingerly cradling his face. His hat had been knocked off in the scuffle and the night breeze was anguish on his ears. He could feel the swelling in his jaw in addition to his stabbed and skewered chest. He stared at her face, into her eyes, in case she purified him into dust. Regardless of anything else, he wanted the last thing he saw to be her face.

Kagome smiled at him. Warmth spread beneath her hands, seeping into his flesh and bones. His ears, pulsing with agony, finally stopped screaming. He could hear her steady heartbeat now. The holes in his chest healed partially, leaving small deep wounds that finally stopped bleeding. She withdrew her hands and traced them gently down his chest. 

“I can't do anymore. You're hurt so badly,” she murmured. 

“I'm alright,” he told her and gently put his clawed hands over her small ones.

From behind her, the wolf demon raced closer. Had so little time really passed since she shouted?

“Lady Kagome!” 

“I'm alright, Koga.”

“And the jewel?”

“I have it,” Kagome said. She cradled Inuyasha's face with one hand. “He returned it to me.”

“The half-breed?” Koga repeated.

Inuyasha leaned into her touch, closing his eyes against the scorn he knew was coming. She must not have known he was a half-breed. She wouldn't have touched him if she had known—

“We will call him by name, Koga,” Kagome said. She stroked her thumb over his cheek. “What is your name?”

Surprised, he choked out, “Inuyasha.”

She tasted the name on her lips. “Inuyasha, would you become mine?”

He nodded without asking what she meant. He would serve her until his body fell apart at the seams and he would fall into hell for her—for this girl who had been kind and healed him twice. He knew so little about her and yet... he wanted to know everything. He wanted to belong to her the way he had never belonged to another. “Yes,” he breathed out. “Yes.”

Kagome smiled. “Welcome, Inuyasha,” she said. She held out her hand.

He stared for a long moment at her graceful fingers, her round nails, her lined palm, the blue veins visible in her wrist. He could see the pulse beating there steadily and his sensitive ears could detect her heartbeat. He took her hand, feeling her skin as soft as velvet against his own. Abruptly, he realized how rough his hands probably were and stared to pull away, but she tightened her grasp and smiled up at him. He hadn't realized he was so much taller than her.

Koga followed behind them, grumbling quietly to himself. 

Kagome didn't remark on his words so Inuyasha chose not to allow the barbs to cut into him. 

The woman who had brought Inuyasha a plate of food two nights before waited for them on the veranda, her hand resting comfortably on the sword at her hip. “Kagome? Is everything alright?” Her crimson-lined eyes took in Inuyasha without judgement.

“Brilliant,” Kagome said.

“It's safe?” the woman asked.

“Yes, Sango,” Kagome said brightly. “He helped me recover it. This is Inuyasha.”

Sango's smile was faint but earnest. Inuyasha got the impression that she did not smile easily. “We've met.”

Inuyasha dipped his head. “Thank you,” he said, “for the food.”

“Don't mention it,” Sango said.

Kagome tugged Inuyasha around the veranda to another door and led him inside. “Koga,” she said, “see to it that all the other guests are escorted out properly.”

“Consider it done.”

Kagome closed the door. She led Inuyasha a short distance, opened another door, and ushered him in. From the view out the window, Inuyasha recognized its placement as the room he had seen Kagome silhouetted in the night before. It was a stunningly large library with comfortable well-used furniture and a roaring hearth. Though the night had been only slightly cool, the peculiar green-blue fire kept the room comfortable. A small fox demon waited for her in an overstuffed chair, reading.

“Kagome!” he greeted cheerfully. 

“This is Shippo,” Kagome told Inuyasha, welcoming the little fox into her arms. She cuddled him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Thanks for waiting.”

Shippo examined Inuyasha more clinically than the others, scenting him out from his perch in Kagome's arms. Inuyasha braced for scorn, but the little fox only said, “He's the one I smelled outside the window the other night.”

Embarrassed at having been caught lurking, Inuyasha shuffled backwards. Maybe he should just go.

“Give us a little time, won't you, Shippo?” Kagome asked.

The fox nodded, jumped down from her arms, and let himself out. 

Alone in the room, Inuyasha swallowed all the things he wanted to say. Kagome smoothed her flame-colored skirt and studied him, one hand pressed to her pursed lips. The jewel hung above her breasts, glittering and catching the light, but it wasn't half as captivating as the way she moved. Absently, she put her hand to the jewel and Inuyasha followed the movement with his eyes.

“That demon was Naraku,” Kagome said softly. “He will stop at nothing to take the Sacred Jewel from me. My elder sister, Kikyo, protected it before me and she was killed in her endeavor.”

Inuyasha heard her heartbeat change with sadness and smelled her tears. He stepped forward, wanting to comfort her, but stopped.

“I believe that Kikyo died because she was alone so I am gathering people who do not desire the jewel to me. It might be foolish, but I...” she hesitated, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I don't want to die alone.”

Inuyasha stared at her—this human girl, so young and slender and beginning to cry. He had suffered endlessly, ever since his mother's death. He should not have felt sorry for her, should not have wanted to lay himself down to protect her, should not have already treasured this girl who said nothing of his poisoned half-human half-demon blood...

Yet he did.

Kagome wiped a tear from her eyes and smiled thinly at him. “When you came here, you didn't even know who I was. You didn't know that I had the jewel, did you?”

He shook his head wordlessly. 

Kagome lifted the jewel from her neck and held it in her palm, staring down at it. “It will grant any wish—any wish at all—yet it is not a pure thing. It will twist and warp whatever is asked of it, yet humans and demons alike would die to possess it.” Without another word, she stretched out her hand and held the jewel out to him. “Would you take it from me?”

Inuyasha stared at the jewel in her palm. 

It called, beckoned, pulsed, whispered, screamed, wanted. 

Someone rapped on the door and Sango entered with a large tray of food and drinks.

Inuyasha turned hastily and his eyes lit up at the sight of food. He had eaten too quickly before and Kagome's healing had used what remained of his body's meager resources. The jewel's call was not so important.

Sango chuckled. “Sorry, did I barge in?”

Kagome put the jewel over her head, smiling faintly. “No, please come in. It seems Inuyasha is as hungry as I am.”

Sango set the tray on the low table in the middle of the room and departed.

Kagome and Inuyasha sat down across from each other. He waited for her invitation to eat and then paced himself, matching her bite for bite. Kagome watched him, her eyes like lanterns. 

Finally, Inuyasha drew up the question he had been desperate to ask since sitting down. “Why did you heal me?”

Kagome put aside the cookie she had been nibbling. “You were hurt, was that not reason enough?”

He lowered his eyes.

“Were you in a fight?”

He exhaled sharply. “No.”

Kagome did not pry.

Yet, he wanted to tell her the truth. “My mother was a human. When she died more than fifty years ago, I was very young. Her husband, a full-demon, kept me.” Inuyasha shuddered, thinking of his doghouse, of the place where the poker had been wedged between his ribs, of the blessed water burning his throat. 

“Kept you?”

“I had no where to go. Half-breeds are lower than dogs. It would have been the same no matter if I ran away or not. At least there, I was dry and occasionally fed.”

Inuyasha heard Kagome's heartbeat quicken, but he did not look into her face. Was she excited or horrified by his revelation? Then, he smelled salt. Looking up quickly, he saw tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Stricken, he got quickly to his feet and knelt in front of her. Trembling, he grasped her hand and held it tightly. 

“Please, don't cry,” he whispered.

Wordlessly, Kagome drew him into her arms. Her dress was warm and soft, her skin even more so. His cheek rested on the bare skin above her breast, so close to her rapidly-beating heart. His long hair tickled her hands as she smoothed it down his back. Tucking her cheek against the top of his head, she closed her eyes. 

His soft dog ear swiveled, brushing her lips. Gently, she touched it. At first, it twitched away from her as though frightened and she thought of the grievous wounds inflicted on them only moments ago. She stroked the hair around it's base, easing Inuyasha into it. Finally, he allowed her to take it between her fingers and gently stroke.

A low thrum vibrated in his chest, something between a growl and a purr. He nuzzled deeper into her arms and she knew the jewel was hanging in his face yet there was no tug on the chain. He cared nothing for the jewel, only the gentle touches that she lavished upon him. 

Somewhere, a clock struck midnight.

The magic peeled away from Inuyasha. His long soft locks became tangled and dirty, his fine suit dissolved into threadbare and stained rags, his bare cold feet met the floor, and his manicured nails revealed themselves to be broken claws. His hands had been rough when Kagome touched them, but she had underestimated the hard calluses that formed from years of endless work. He started to pull away and she allowed him, but caught his hands before he could get too far. She looked at him, kneeling at her feet, and saw him for all he was worth without the touch of magic to hide anything.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered.

He looked prepared to bolt.

She leaned close and gently kissed his cheek. It meant more than anything else she could have done. After all, the magic was not why she had chosen him.

**X:Glass:X**

Questions, comments, concerns? 


End file.
